Changes
by kenziecaffrey
Summary: He hadn't been the same since Kate's death. Takes place two weeks after Out of the Box finale. Spoilers: Out of the Box. One-shot. I do not own White Collar or in any way associated with it. Hope you enjoy! xxx -Kenzie Alizabeth


_Spoilers for Season One episode of Out of the Box. Takes place two weeks after Out of the Box finale. Thank you for reading._

Neal Caffrey sat on his bed, quietly. He was thinking to himself, the television by the couch turned onto a random channel, but it didn't matter; he wasn't paying attention anyway.

It had been two weeks since the love of his life, Kate Moreau, was murdered at the Hudson Hangar. Neal couldn't help but blame himself for her death. He kept thinking over and over again to himself, _It should have been me on that plane with her. I should be dead with her. _

The con artist looked over at the clock and it read 8:47 P.M. He had just finished nibbling on his small dinner of a sandwich and was already sitting in his blue, silk pajamas.

His phone buzzed on the table next to him and he just stared at it, blankly, and let it buzz. The caller ID read _Mozzie._ Neal thought to himself that he could return it later, and if it was so important, Mozzie could come and tell him in person.

Neal's sharp, once blue, but now gray eyes, wandered around the room and he finally got up and looked at the incoming text message coming in on his phone from Mozzie.

He groaned, got up, walked over to the phone, and read it. It read: _Hey Neal. I might come over later. I didn't know if you were back to work yet. You haven't told me much. See you later._

Neal read it again and sighed and replied Mozzie, saying, "_Yes, I am at home. Come over later if you want. I'm by myself and June is out with some friends. Some company could do me good! –Neal"_

He closed his phone and sank down by the wall. He looked around at his apartment. It was pretty clean except that a few pieces of clothing were out of place, but other than that, it was decent enough for visitors. After all, it's not like Mozzie has never seen a messy room.

Neal rubbed his eyes wearily and decided to dress in some jeans and a white t-shirt. He did so and looked at the bookcase. On the bookcase, there was a wine bottle labeled _Bordeaux_ and it was covered in dust. Lying next to it was a note with curly handwriting scrawled over it, bent up in several spots.

The young man walked over to the bookcase and picked up the wine bottle. He brushed it off with his fingertips and then it revealed the map that Neal and Mozzie had discovered when she was still missing.

Neal smiled at the thoughts and then a wave of pain flashed across his face, remembering how she was dead now, and he would never wake up to her bed side again. He could never look at her icy blue eyes again and run his fingers through her hair when she was sick. He would never get to kiss her again.

"I never got to say goodbye..." he whispered to himself and felt his eyes water up. _No, I will not break down. It was the past. This is the present. _Neal argued with himself and frowned and put the bottle down on the shelf again.

He picked up the note and looked at the handwriting scribbled all over it. He smiled slightly, loving her handwriting. He knew how much Kate loved the classics. He folded the note up so it revealed the code again. He then set it down like it had shocked him and his eyes watered up again.

Neal rubbed his hands across his face and looked at himself in the mirror. He cheeks had sunken in from not eating much. He had done a horrible job at shaving and the stubble was more noticeable in other places of his face. His hair had strands sticking up from different ends. His eyes weren't the usual ocean blue, they were gray like clouds. He was more pale than usual.

The night that Kate had died, he had stayed at Peter and Elizabeth's home so they could watch him. He was social with them. He didn't ignore them and block them out. He responded to direct questions and statements toward him. He ate every piece of food on his plate, but then later vomited it up later, not able to keep it down.

Elizabeth and Peter had stepped in every hour of the night to make sure he was feeling alright, and most of the hours they checked in on him, he just faked sleep. He didn't want to fall asleep. He was so terrified that the nightmares would start, and soon after he returned to June's, they did as he predicted.

June had heard him screaming in the night, begging for Kate to come back, and telling him that it was his fault that she was dead. She had managed to wrap her arms around him and calm him down and lately had been checking in every night on him, and if the nightmares had startled her and woke her up, she would wake him up and calm him down again.

Neal sucked in his cheeks and walked away from the mirror and sat back on the couch, turning on the television and pressing the button to turn the volume up and tried to drown out his thoughts until Mozzie hopefully came.

He heard his phone buzz again and then saw the ID: _Peter. _

Neal picked up his phone, "Hello?" He answered and muted the television. He got up and walked to the terrace of June's house and looked over Manhattan.

"Hey. Elizabeth wants to know if you want to come over for dinner tonight. She got a late start because she didn't think that I would be home from work so early. Want to come?" He asked.

Neal declined politely, "No, thanks. Mozzie is coming over and I already ate. Thanks though. Tell Elizabeth I'll make it up and come another day. Sorry." He apologized and lied at the same time. Half of it was the truth; Mozzie was coming over and he would make it up at the same time. The other half was a lie; He hadn't eaten and he wasn't exactly sad or sorry about it. He wasn't hungry and not in the mood to face Elizabeth. He hadn't seen or talked to her since the night he came home with them. He was too embarrassed to.

"Oh," Peter said, "then I'll see you tomorrow."

Neal sighed silently and nodded, "Same. Goodnight, Peter." He said and hung up the phone quickly, feeling awkward. He doubted Peter even wanted him in his household and didn't trust him anymore.

He hadn't had any contact from Alex since they had stolen the music box together and she had dropped it off. It was almost as if she had dropped off the face of the earth ever since Kate died.

The funeral was the hardest thing for Neal. It had taken place a week ago, and Neal hadn't seen many familiar faces with the exception of Mozzie and Peter. Peter had to be there to assist and make sure that Neal wouldn't run.

The con man had watched them place her casket in the ground, without her body in there. The plane was destroyed so much that they had barely found human remains on the plane, but they did find Kate's DNA on a burnt up seat by the window.

Neal had dressed in his best suit jacket for the funeral, one that had been stored away in June's attic that had belonged to Byron, and she had wanted him to wear it. Neal even wore a fedora with the suit, some Hush Puppy shoes, a silk tie, and a white Calvin Klein shirt underneath of it.

He had been so wiped out from that day that he had thrown his clothes off, put them somewhere, hopped in the shower, and went back to bed without drying his hair. He hadn't seen his fedora and the outfit since then. He hadn't really cared to look for it. He couldn't force himself to wear the classy, vintage hat anyway.

Neal sat on the ground, thinking over the past two weeks events over and over again in his head. There was a single rose in a vase on the dining table from the funeral that he couldn't bring himself to give away. He had made an origami rose bouquet for her grave and then one real pink rose in the middle, but he had pulled the pink rose out and kept it on the table with him. People thought oddly of this behavior, but he didn't seem to care. The only thing he cared about most right now was finding Kate's killer and seeking revenge on them.

Neal got up and started to return to his bed when he noticed he had dropped a single sock by his bed. He shrugged sadly and picked it up when he noticed something black under the bed.

The gray-eyed man got on his knees and reached his slender arms out for it and pulled it from under the bed and smiled slightly. It was his black, bow tie, fedora with a feather on the side of it.

His thoughts flashed back to the funeral and his eyes watered up again. _I will never see Kate again, because of me._

This one time, Neal would allow the tears to roll down his cheeks and he mourned and sobbed quietly to himself. He was lost without her and maybe it was true that he couldn't live his once normal life without Kate.

The End.

_I hope you enjoyed this one-shot. Thanks for reading! Reviews mean a lot to me! _


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